


Call Me

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Flirting, Cute, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jock Stiles, M/M, Nerd Derek Hale, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4783895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Derek is a nerd without a phone and Stiles is the jock who has to resort to Ye Olden Day ways of communicating. </p><p>(Based on a Tumblr post. Link in the notes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the comic strip I saw on Tumblr about a jock and a nerd. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen. 
> 
> http://cheese3d.tumblr.com/post/76066061389/anyone-please-ask-your-crush-out-like-this
> 
> If the link doesn't work please yell at me and I will attempt to fix it.

Derek leaned up against his locker. He knew perfectly well that he looked a little bit awkward, all hunched up against the cool metal with his nose buried deep in a book. His glasses had begun to slip down. He pushed them back up clumsily with his index finger, still engrossed in his book. He could vaguely hear the chatter of a gaggle of girls that stood nearby, their discussion jumping from the lacrosse team, to sociology class and then to homecoming court. 

Derek didn’t mind school. He liked learning, although the classes never covered the things he wanted to know in great enough detail. Still, that left him with books to search for in the library, bits and pieces to research in his free time. And he had a lot of free time. 

He wasn’t at the bottom of the school food chain. Social skills didn’t come easily to him, but he had a few friends in some of his classes. He had never been particularly close to anyone, and he knew he came off as a bit of a nerd, but he had a fantastic family and he enjoyed school nonetheless. Still, sometimes he wished he had a few people his own age to talk to, someone to share his latest book with, or even someone to complain about sociology with. Derek hated sociology. He should never have taken it as an elective. Even Finstock’s class was better than sociology, and the man barely managed to stick to the curriculum. 

The bell rang just as Derek turned the last page of the chapter. He turned to collect his books, struggling with his bag as he tried to finish the last few sentences. 

He had just slammed the door shut to his locker when something hit the back of his bag. Confused, Derek froze. He tucked his book under his arm and swivelled around, frowning. The corridor was almost completely empty. The girls were still there, although they had stopped talking. Derek could feel their stares burning a hole in the side of his head. 

His stare caught on one lone figure who stood at a locker, a few metres down the hall. 

Stiles Stilinski was whistling a slightly off-key tune as he pulled a textbook out of his locker. He had one hand buried in the pockets of his jeans, which hung low on his waist. Derek found himself unable to look away. Even the snapback baseball cap situated on his head didn’t repel his gaze. Normally Derek couldn’t stand jocks. He hated Jackson, whose favourite pastime was dunking freshmen in the swimming pool and emptying the contents of their backpacks all over the bleachers. But he had to admit that he’d glanced at Stilinski more than once since his first year at Beacon Hills High School. 

Stiles had never struck Derek as a bully. He didn’t even seem particularly bothered about being in the in-crowd. High school was full of cliques, people with their own social circles, and unfortunately Derek and Stiles’ didn’t overlap. Still, the boy who laughed loudly at the lunch tables with his best friend and scored the winning throw in lacrosse definitely was nothing like Jackson. He didn’t seem like a bad guy. 

He also didn’t seem like the kind of guy to wink at Derek and shoot him finger guns, but that’s what had just happened. 

Derek blinked rapidly, bemused. He watched as Stiles slunk backwards around the corner, a smirk on his face as he watched Derek blush from afar. Derek blinked once more, and Stiles was gone, most likely on his way to French class. 

“What the hell?” Derek muttered to himself. He shook himself, and something slipped to the floor with a soft shush. He turned around to find a piece of paper that had been stuck to the back of his bag with a smiley face sticker. He looked at the blank piece of paper, and then at the corner where Stiles had disappeared. 

He turned over the piece of paper and blushed to the roots of his hair. 

_Call Me_ was written in looping handwriting, followed by a phone number and a couple of kisses. Derek read the words five times before he actually believed them. 

His first thought was that it must be some kind of joke. His second thought was that he was going to be late for mathematics. He folded the paper up carefully and pocketed it, pretending not to notice the girls’ stares. They were still there whispering and giggling with each other. Derek hoped they might keep it to themselves- it wasn’t exactly newsworthy, but he also knew how high school worked. 

He hurried to class, the note burning a hole in his pocket. 

*

By the time lunch rolled around, Derek was a bit of a mess. He had taken the note out plenty of times just to look at it, to smooth his hands over the words, still a little disbelieving. He had barely been able to concentrate in mathematics, which wasn’t like him. Maths was easy for Derek. Maths always had an answer, a solution. You just had to remember the equations and where to apply them. And yet, despite the ease with which he normally worked through his problems, the other little problem concerning Stiles Stilinski was still niggling at him. 

It was possible that it was a joke. 

Derek didn’t really believe that, but it was one hypothesis. Still, he didn’t think Stiles would have executed such a ridiculously lame prank on Derek without a point, and the two had never interacted before. Stiles had been alone, no laughing jockeys around him, and he had seemed sincere, if a little smug. 

So, if it wasn’t a joke, if it really had been a sincere request, then that left Derek with a conundrum. 

He had never really had a relationship before. He had kissed a girl called Paige in kindergarten, on a dare, but that was it. He had had crushes, both on girls and guys. That wasn’t the problem. The problem wasn’t even Stiles himself- Derek had already accepted that the other boy was a good person, and he wasn’t low down in the looks department either. 

Definitely not without looks. 

No, none of those things were his problem. 

He approached the cafeteria nervously. Inside, people were clumped together at tables, shouting and laughing and aiming food at each other. Derek normally got something hot from the kitchens, but this time when he joined the lunch line, he was so flustered that he just grabbed a bottle of water and an apple. 

Grimacing at his own awkwardness, Derek scurried towards the nearest empty table. He would only be there for a few minutes anyway. 

He settled in, popped the cap on his drink, and looked around the cafeteria. 

Stiles was in the far corner, beside the large windows. Light streamed in from outside, illuminating his pale skin and the long lie of his neck, even that ridiculous cap that he never seemed to be without. Derek wasn’t even sure if Stiles had hair. 

Then Stiles laughed. He laughed with his whole body, his head tipped skyward as he swung back on his chair. 

That decided Derek. 

He pulled out his notebook and carefully ripped a piece of paper free from the binding. He scrawled _I don’t have a phone_ in small, neat letters. 

Maybe it was stupid, to be seventeen and not even have a phone, but Derek had never had the need for one. His sisters were always around and all of his family lived in Beacon Hills.  
He didn’t have close friends. They had a landline, but Talia, the mayor of Beacon Hills and Derek’s mother, liked to keep it free for business reasons. So no, he didn’t have a mobile phone and he’d never really wanted one. 

Until now. 

Clumsily, Derek stood up, shouldering his bag. He left the water where it was and pocketed the apple. Stiles had his back to him, so he didn’t see Derek walking towards him. He certainly felt Derek tap him on the shoulder though. 

Stiles jerked around, mid-sentence. The words seemed to die on his tongue as he spotted Derek standing there. His whole face brightened up, a surprised smile spreading across his face. Derek glanced quickly at Stiles’ friend, who he recognised vaguely as Scott McCall. McCall was staring at him curiously, chewing at his own apple slowly. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, a little uncertainly. 

Derek panicked. 

He thrust the piece of paper in Stiles’s face. Stiles flailed, hands coming up to grab the note. Derek felt his cheeks burn and he groaned internally, before sprinting out of the cafeteria. He was sure people were looking at him and he heard Stiles yelp at his speedy exit, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until he reached the library, where he collapsed into a chair and buried his face in the nearest book he could find. 

It happened to be a book on health, and Derek was so flustered that spent the next ten minutes reading about the history of male circumcision. 

It was… interesting, if nothing else. 

*

The school day ended without ceremony. Derek left sociology class with his usual scowl in place. He was tempted to skip his usual trip to his locker and make his way to the office. He could ask to switch electives. He recalled his mother’s voice encouraging him to stick it out, though, and sighed. 

At his locker, he was extremely grateful that he hadn’t gone to the office. 

There was a note stuck to the door of his locker. _Meet me at the bleachers after school_ , it said, in bright red letters. There was a slightly dorky drawing of some stick figures and a lacrosse ball flying over a goalpost. Derek had to grin as he pulled the note off of his locker, tracing the drawings with his fingers. 

He heard a muffled hoot from his left and whipped around. It had sounded vaguely triumphant, but when he looked, there was no one there. 

Shrugging, Derek adjusted the strap of his bag and shoved the new note in his pocket. The bleachers weren’t that far out of his way, he reasoned, and there were no after school groups on Fridays. Everyone was too eager to go home. Even if it was a lame prank of Stilinski’s, which he hoped it wasn’t, there hopefully wouldn’t be anyone around to witness his crushing humiliation. 

He was wrong, of course. 

A few yards onto the soggy grass that made up the practice field, Derek tripped over an outstretched foot. He landed spread-eagled on the floor, his limbs sprawled out haphazardly. Grimacing – he could feel mud seeping into his jeans, Derek levered himself up onto his elbows. Turning around, he spotted Jackson and Danny, who were both leaning over him with amused looks on their faces. Derek scowled back, angry. 

He hadn’t done anything to deserve that. He’d never even spoken to Jackson, just hated him from afar, and Danny was always nice to him in chemistry. They had even been lab partners for a few different projects. 

He couldn’t help but notice that they were both quite a bit more muscled than he was. They both played lacrosse, and Danny ran track, and Derek had seen the kind of weights that Jackson lifted. He had no hope of besting them. 

Just as he was about to make a run for it, a fist came out of nowhere and collided with Jackson’s perfect jawline. 

Jackson made a surprisingly feminine noise as he staggered backwards. Danny was too busy choking on laughter to do anything more than stare as Stiles stood in front of Derek, who was still prone on the floor, gobsmacked. 

Hurriedly, he clicked his mouth shut and heaved himself up, standing shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. 

“What the hell, Stilinski?” Jackson snarled, cradling his jaw with one hand. He looked pissed, but also indignant, as if he had just been planning a leisurely stroll rather than scaring the crap out of Derek. 

“I should be asking you that, Whittemore,” Stiles snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you think you were doing?” 

“Relax boys,” Danny said, still grinning. “We were just giving your boyfriend back his notes. They fell out of his pocket in the locker room, so we followed him out here.” 

He waved the crumped piece of notepaper with Stiles’ meet-up printed on it in their faces. Derek felt himself blush. When he glanced sideways, a ruddy flush was working its way up the side of Stiles’s neck. Stiles winced. 

“Oh. Well, uh, apologies then.” 

Jackson snorted, rolled his eyes and stormed off back to the school. Danny shook his head and handed the note over to Derek, who accepted it gratefully. 

“Thanks, Danny,” he muttered, pocketing the note. “Tell Jackson I’m sorry.” 

“Sure thing,” Danny said. “You two have fun now.” 

He winked once, and then strolled away after Jackson. 

Stiles let out a groan, one hand coming up to rub at his face. “Well, now I feel like a dick.” 

Derek laughed a little hysterically. It had been possibly the strangest day at school he had ever had, and it was about to become even stranger. He shuffled a little closer to Stiles and dropped his head onto the other boy’s shoulder. 

He felt Stiles tense beneath him, but Derek ignored it. He was ninety nine percent sure that this had never been a joke, which meant Stiles didn’t mind how close Derek was. Sure enough, Stiles relaxed after a moment, and a hand came up to encircle Derek’s wrist. 

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly. “I, uh, I like your shirt.” 

Derek grinned into Stiles’ shoulder. It looked like he wasn’t the only awkward, blustering one in this thing. Possibly Stiles was nowhere near as suave as he pretended to be. 

“Thanks,” Derek said, drawing back. “I like your hat.” 

Stiles’s mouth twitched into a smile. He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, the other hand still holding onto Derek’s wrist. Derek grinned. 

He had to take a deep breath, working up the courage to do something brave, or possibly something stupid and ultimately embarrassing. 

In the end, he just went for it, one hand fisting in Stiles’s hoodie as he dragged the taller boy forward into a rushed kiss. Their mouths mashed together and Derek slammed his eyes shut. He could hear the small, surprised sound that Stiles made, could feel the little gasp of air that left him. 

And then Stiles kissed back, arms coming up to wrap around Derek. Derek relaxed into his hold, trading sweet, unsure kisses that grew more certain with each passing second. 

He laughed breathlessly as they drew apart. 

“You need to get a phone,” Stiles told him solemnly, eyes fixed on Derek’s lips. Then Stiles lifted his hat up and mashed it onto Derek’s head, where it sat at a sideways angle. Derek smiled, blushing a little, as he stared at the little tufts of dark hair that stuck up all over Stiles’s head. 

“So you do have hair, then,” Derek mused. Stiles gave him a mock-affronted look. 

“You kissed me and you didn’t even know that I have hair? You’re not very observant, are you?” 

“I don’t need to be observant to know that you don’t know how to flirt,” Derek teased, tapping his pocket where the note lay. 

“Oh I’ll show you flirting, Derek Hale,” Stiles said, and pulled him in for another kiss. 

Derek pinned the notes up on his door later that night, as a reminder of exactly how ridiculous his new boyfriend was.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment or a kudos if you did! Come find me @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr!
> 
> Thank You.


End file.
